


Breathe

by Qille



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Blood, Limb loss, M/M, Swearing, dust storm, nothing explicitly shippy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-16
Updated: 2017-03-16
Packaged: 2018-10-05 21:54:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10317791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Qille/pseuds/Qille
Summary: This is basically my take on how Junkrat lost his limbs, and why he and Roadhog are wary of snipers. I tagged this as Roadrat because they do have a relationship, but it's up to the reader to interpret it as platonic or romantic. I would put an actual summary of the story here, but it's only 5,000 words long, and after ten years of writing I'm still terrible at summaries.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time writing for these two, so I hope I did well. Enjoy the story.

The hot afternoon sun was hanging low over the wasteland. The air was heavy, and there was a strong hot wind whipping across the dust. 

Even at the speed he was driving, Roadhog took notice of the wind. It was blowing strong and steady from the west, whipping up small dust devils that jumped across the road. Normally this wouldn't concern him, but today was different. He recognized the conditions, the heat, the wind, the taste of iron in the air which made it past his mask. There was a dust storm coming. 

They had been deep in the wasteland earlier that day, scavenging for parts. Roadhog wasn't sure what the parts were for, exactly, only that Junkrat had come up with a new invention, which he seemed more excited about than usual. However, their expedition led them far from home base. Too far to make it back before the storm hit. Upon realizing this, Roadhog turned the bike south, deciding to head for one of the safe houses he knew about. 

In the back of his mind, he knew this was dangerous. The safe house was isolated, but in order to get to it they would have to pass the derelict remains of several towns. Most of them were abandoned due to the damage they had sustained, but he knew that one or two were still frequently used as hideouts by cutthroats and bounty hunters. However, the risk of being overwhelmed and suffocated by a massive sand storm outweighed the risk of a few criminals trying to get ahold of them. With every minute that passed, he could tell the storm would be a massive and dangerous one, just by the electricity in the air.

Only when they started passing the rubble did Junkrat notice that they weren't heading back to their base. Before that, he had been chattering to deaf ears while he tinkered with the small engine he had salvaged. When he noticed things were different, however, he put the engine on the floor of the sidecar and elbowed Roadhog.

“Oi Roadie, where are we goin'?” he asked loudly. 

“Safe house,” replied Roadhog. “Storm's coming.”

Junkrat jumped a bit, and he began to frantically scan the horizon. He was all too familiar with the violent thunderstorms that brought irradiated, burning rain. After a moment of searching, however, he saw nothing. The sky was hazy and hot, and the low sun was giving it an eerie orange color, but he didn't seen any storm clouds.

“You sure there's a storm comin'?” asked Junkrat. “Can't see anything.”

Roadhog gave a brisk nod. “It's a dust storm. You'll see it soon.”

Junkrat glanced around again. The haze in the air and the strong wind suddenly seemed more ominous. He picked up the engine and started tinkering again, trusting that Roadhog knew what he was doing.

The ride was uneventful, but still nerve-wracking. As the sun dropped lower in the sky, the wind became stronger, almost to the point where Roadhog had trouble staying on the remains of the road. The dust in the air began to get thicker, and far in the distance, just below the setting sun, they could see the occasional flash of lightning as the storm intensified and the wind drove the dust closer. The storm was moving fast.

They were only ten minutes away from the safe house when they reached the last town. Most of it had been reduced to rubble, but there were three buildings still standing. There was one small squat building on the left side of the road, and two taller buildings on the right side. However, one of the tall buildings was heavily damaged near the base, its supports heavily rusted and nearly entirely broken. It looked like the slightest push would send it toppling into its neighbor.

As they approached, Roadhog searched for any sign of movement or life, but he couldn't see anything. It looked more abandoned than usual. He wondered if the local lowlifes had seen the approaching storm and taken shelter. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Junkrat lean forward, looking intently at something ahead of them. Suddenly, he jumped and screamed.

“STOP!”

Roadhog slammed on the breaks, nearly throwing Junkrat out of the sidecar as they screeched to a grinding halt.

“What?” exclaimed Roadhog, one hand on his hook as he quickly scanned the buildings.

“Look at the road, mate!” growled Junkrat.

Roadhog finally tore his eyes away from the buildings, and he was surprised to see that the road was pockmarked with small craters, clearly caused by explosions. 

“Who the hell would put landmines out here?” grumbled Junkrat. He squinted a bit, searching for something. “I can see 'bout six of 'em. Wait here.”

Before Roadhog could stop him, he jumped out of the side car and carefully began to walk towards the minefield. 

Junkrat walked ten feet forward before stopping and kneeling down, carefully dusting the dirt away from one of the large patches of missing asphalt. Roadhog could see him reach into the pouch on his belt, pull out a small tool, and fiddle with something for a moment before standing up and moving on, leaving pieces of the disabled mine behind. 

Carefully, Roadhog moved the bike closer to the tall building on the right side of the road. It looked like there were fewer mines on this side. He watched as Junkrat carefully moved from crater to crater, pushing the dust away, picking up the landmine, and expertly disabling it. 

While he waited, he kept scanning the buildings. Across from him was the squat building, which was small enough for him to see that nobody was hiding inside. Turning around, he looked at the unstable building and the tall building. They still looked abandoned, but something in the back of his mind told him that there was something wrong. 

That was when he saw the other bike, almost completely hidden behind the tall building. He whipped around, just in time to see the movement. 

Most of the road was obscured by the shadow of the tall building, and that shadow was where Roadhog saw the movement. In that split second, he realized there was somebody on the roof. 

He started to run towards Junkrat, who had been so focused on his work that he hadn't seen the danger. 

“Jamie!” he yelled.

Junkrat looked up, and a split second later, there was a gunshot. Instantly, the mine in his hand exploded. The explosion triggered several other hidden landmines, and Roadhog was knocked back by the blast.

He was back on his feet in a second. His ears were ringing, and he couldn't see far due to how much dust had been blasted into the air. There was only one single thought running through his mind: where's Junkrat? 

He stumbled forward, frantically looking around. After a moment, a gust of wind shifted some of the dust, and he saw Junkrat. He had been thrown off the road by the explosion, landing almost at the door of the squat building. He wasn't moving.

Roadhog ran over to him and knelt down, but he froze when he saw the damage. Junkrat's right leg was gone, severed above his knee. His right arm was mangled, only attached to the rest of his body by a few strands of tissue and viscera. 

As carefully as he could, Roadhog turned him over so he was flat on his back. There was more damage. His chest was badly bruised, a sign of internal bleeding. There was also shrapnel sticking out of the right side of his chest. His left eye was bruised and swollen, his left ear was bleeding, and a good portion of his hair had been burnt off. The only good news was that he was still breathing.

Knowing that the cloud of dust from the explosion was the only thing keeping the sniper at bay, Roadhog made a snap decision. He picked up Junkrat and carried him inside the squat building, bringing him over to a section of the wall where there were no cracks or gaps.

Inside, the air was relatively clear, and he could tell that it had once been a garage. It would protect them from the sniper, but not from the sand storm that was bearing down on them. 

He carefully set Junkrat down, propping him upright against a spare tire that was leaning on the wall. Then he reached into a pouch on his belt and took out several rolls of bandages, which he always kept on him in case of emergencies. 

Junkrat's leg was bleeding the most, so that's what he bandaged first. Then he moved on to his arm. The remains were still hanging on, an inch or two below his elbow. He quickly severed it with his machete and bandaged the rest. 

Tossing the remains of the arm aside, he took another roll of bandages and got a better look at the damage on Junkrat's face. There were burns and cuts on his neck and the side of his face, and there was a bit of blood dripping from his eye as well as his ear. As Roadhog began to bandage his face, he thought it was a good thing he had called out before the explosion, otherwise Junkrat would have been staring straight at the mine when it exploded. 

After he finished with the bandages, he took another look at the shrapnel sticking out of Junkrat's chest. It was all on the right side of his ribcage, which must have been where he was holding the mine when the sniper shot it. 

After a moment, Roadhog decided it was too risky to try and remove the shrapnel. He didn't have any tools with him, so trying to remove it by hand could just push it deeper and puncture his lung. Junkrat's breathing was shallow and pained, but dry. That meant that his lungs hadn't been punctured, even with the shrapnel and some possibly broken ribs. Roadhog didn't want to risk it. 

Now that there were no more wounds to bandage, Roadhog sat down and took a deep breath. They were stuck. The sniper would kill them if they set foot outside, but they couldn't wait. The sand storm was approaching, and Junkrat was still severely injured. If they wanted to survive, they couldn't wait. They would have to escape, and soon. 

Carefully, Roadhog peeked out of one of the small cracks in the wall. He could see his bike on the other side of the road where he left it. At least the sniper wouldn't be able to disable it from above. The only problem would be getting to it without getting shot. 

Everything was quiet for a moment. He could hear the howling wind and the distant rumble of thunder. Then he heard Junkrat groan as he slowly returned to consciousness. 

Quickly, Roadhog moved so he was in front of Junkrat. He watched carefully, his heart racing as Junkrat slowly opened his eye. 

“W-what...?” was all he managed to stammer before he fully registered the pain. His left hand flailed for a moment as he was unable to decide what hurt the most. Roadhog saw him reaching for the shrapnel in his side, so he quickly reached out and took his hand. This seemed to focus his attention.

“Can you hear me?” asked Roadhog slowly.

Junkrat squinted at him. “K-kinda...” he gasped. “My whole head's ringin' and foggy.”

Roadhog gave a small nod. Judging by the distant glazed look in Junkrat's eye and the way he was slurring his words, he had a concussion. He also had some hearing damage from the blast. 

“W-what happened?” stammered Junkrat. As he spoke, he tried to sit upright, but Roadhog put a hand on his shoulder to keep him in place. 

“Sniper,” said Roadhog simply. “Don't move, you're hurt.” 

“I'm fine,” scoffed Junkrat as he reached up to swat Roadhog's hand away. However, he reached up with his right hand, and he froze when he saw that it wasn't there anymore. He stared at the bandaged and bloody stump for a moment, not comprehending what he was seeing. Then, slowly, he waved his left hand through the air where his right arm used to be. 

“T-this is bad...” muttered Junkrat.

Roadhog stared at him, amazed by his understatement. After a moment, though, he realized that the concussion and shock might be stopping Junkrat from fully realizing how badly he was injured. He hadn't even noticed his leg was gone yet. 

A moment later, however, Junkrat looked down and saw that his leg was missing. He quickly looked back and forth between his leg and his arm and began to breathe faster. 

“Oh fuck...” he muttered, his voice shaking. He was starting to panic. “Fucking shit... H-how are we gonna g-get out of this?” 

“Stay calm, and don't breathe too deeply,” said Roadhog, trying to make his voice sound as calm as possible. However, it was difficult to sound calm when he had to nearly shout to make sure Junkrat heard him. 

Junkrat looked up at him, his face pale with pain and terror. He was shaking, and the bloodstains on his bandages were slowly spreading. Roadhog was worried about how much blood Junkrat was losing. 

Suddenly, he had an idea. He reached into the loop on the back of his belt and grabbed the gas canister. However, when he held the canister up to inspect it, his heart fell. There was a piece of shrapnel embedded in the side of the canister, and the small dial on top pointed to empty. The spare canisters were still in his bike.

“Had the s-same thought, mate,” muttered Junkrat grimly, seeing the busted canister. “You make that shit, don't ya? C-can't you make more?”

“Do you see a chemistry set around here?” growled Roadhog, gesturing to the derelict garage and half broken car parts. 

Junkrat closed his eye and grimaced as another wave of pain ran through him. Roadhog crushed the canister in his hand and tossed it aside. 

Suddenly, a loud crack of thunder ripped through the air, and the howling wind intensified.

“We're out of time,” said Roadhog, looking through one of the tiny cracks in the wall. Far in the distance, beyond the buildings and the rubble, he could see the wall of the sand storm. It was a line on the horizon, but it was fast. Soon, they would be overwhelmed. 

He looked back at Junkrat, who took a shallow and pained breath. The fear slowly faded from his face, replaced by determination. 

“What are we dealin' with?” asked Junkrat, his voice sounding steady for the first time. 

“Sniper on the roof,” said Roadhog. “Sand storm on the way. We're ten minutes from the safe house.” 

“If we ran, could they follow us?”

Roadhog nodded. “They have a bike.”

Junkrat nodded grimly, thinking. In that moment of quiet, they both began to formulate a plan. Junkrat looked at the tools and parts surrounding them. There were engines here, similar to the one he had salvaged that morning. He also reached behind him and felt the tire he was leaning against. Then he looked down at the explosives still strapped to his chest, and everything fell into place. 

Meanwhile, Roadhog was looking at the derelict building next to the tall building the sniper was hiding in. It was shaking and bending in the wind, putting a lot of stress on one exposed and rusted support beam. His hand fell to his hook; one good hit could probably bring the whole building down. And if the building fell the way it was leaning, it would fall directly into the tall building with the sniper. 

Junkrat and Roadhog turned and looked at each other. They both spoke at the same time.

“I have an idea.”

**XXX**

The sniper sat perfectly still on the roof. She had taken shelter here when she saw the sand storm coming, and it was only by chance that the two Junkers with the largest bounties on their heads came through. 

She sat still and patient, keeping her gun trained on the only entrance – and exit – of the small building. The sun was behind her, so they wouldn't be able to see her for the glare, and she had the high ground and the best light. However, the light was rapidly falling. Every few seconds, she glanced at the small mirror sitting next to her, using it to see how close the sand storm was. Then she would focus back on her prey. 

Her single eye narrowed behind her goggles. Even with the howling wind and the rumbling thunder and the creaking of the buildings, she could still hear clanging and wicked laughter. 

“What are you doing...?” she whispered to herself as she squinted, searching for movement. 

Suddenly, the roar of an engine filled the air, followed by more maniacal laughter. The cry of “Fire in the hole!” echoed through the ruins.

Without warning, a single tire shot out of the door of the garage, seemingly propelled by itself. The sniper was so shocked by this that she didn't shoot it. She watched as the tire flew across the road, turned the corner, and slammed into her bike.

A massive explosion that shook the entire building followed, and she dropped her gun in shock as pieces of her bike landed on the roof, along with the remains of the tire. 

As soon as Roadhog heard the explosion, he scooped up Junkrat and ran. Sure enough, the dust cloud kicked up by the explosion kept them mostly hidden, and they weren't immediately peppered with bullets.

They reached their bike with ease. Roadhog jumped on and gently but quickly set Junkrat down in the sidecar. Then he revved the engine, pulled out his hook, and carried out his part of the plan. 

When the sniper heard the engine roar to life, she snatched up her gun and sprinted to the side of the building, just in time to see Roadhog roar past, steering with one hand. The other hand was held high in the air, holding onto a thick metal chain. The hook on the end of the chain had just wrapped around the rusted support beam of the building next door. 

With a mighty yank, Roadhog pulled his hook forward. The combination of his godlike strength and the speed at which he flew down the road was enough to rip the hook through the rusted metal like it was a hot knife cutting through butter. 

For a split second, nothing happened. Then the building began to creak and moan, and a strong gust of wind from the rapidly approaching storm gave it the final push. The building slowly toppled, hitting the tall building where the sniper was hiding head on.

The weight of the fallen building was enough to rip the foundations of the tall building out, and like dominoes, they both fell. 

Junkrat, who had been lying on his back in the sidecar and watching the scene play out in the rear-view mirror, gave a small whoop of excitement. Their plan had worked. He watched with a wide and wicked grin as the two buildings crashed to the ground in a giant cloud of dust. 

Just as he was about to look away, however, the setting sun was suddenly obscured by the massive wall of dust closing in on them. Lightning flashed, and in that flash of light, he saw that the sniper had survived the collapse. She was standing in the middle of the road behind them, getting smaller by the second. However, the lightning had reflected off her gun, which was pointed right at them.

The sniper, who had managed to jump from the building at the last second, gritted her teeth and narrowed her single eye. Ignoring the fact that she was seconds away from being engulfed in a massive dust storm, she leveled her gun and took aim.

She aimed directly for Roadhog.

Roadhog hadn't realized that the sniper survived the crash. He was focused on getting them away from the dust storm as fast as possible. However, Junkrat could tell what was about to happen.

He knew that the sniper would try and shoot Roadhog to stop them from escaping. He was weak and wounded, and with Roadhog out of the way, he would be easy prey. 

Knowing there was nothing else to do, Junkrat reached down with his left hand and grabbed his gun. In one swift motion, he swung his left arm around and gave himself enough momentum to roll over onto his stomach so that he was facing backwards. However, when he did this, he rolled over his right side, where all the shrapnel was. The simple action of him rolling over drove the shrapnel deeper into his torso.

There was a deep, stabbing pain, then it felt like he had been punched in the chest. He gasped as the wind was knocked out of him, and in the back of his mind he realized that he had just punctured his lung. 

Gasping for breath and tasting blood, he pulled the trigger. A frag grenade was launched backwards. A split second later, the sniper pulled the trigger. 

Neither of them could have planned it, but it happened just the same. Instead of imbedding itself into Roadhog's spine, the bullet smashed into the bomb that Junkrat had launched. The bomb exploded in a ball of fire, and the bullet disintegrated. The noise and wave of heat scared the shit out of Roadhog, but he remained uninjured. They drove on, and within a second, they were out of range.

The sniper nearly threw down her gun in frustration, but instead she sprinted inside the fallen building just as the sand storm hit. Once she made sure she was safe inside, she turned on her communicator, which was struggling to get through the storm.

“This is Ana,” she said. “When the storm clears, send transport to my last location. I've got them...”

Then she sat down and waited.

**XXX**

As soon as they were out of range, Junkrat carefully moved so that he was curled on his left side. His vision was blurry, and the pain from his injuries made him feel sick. He gave a small cough, and blood sprayed the seat in front of him. With every breath he took, he felt the pain and tightness in his chest growing stronger, as if somebody was stabbing him in the ribs while piling rocks on his chest.

He glanced up at Roadhog, who was focused only on the road and on the massive sand storm closing in behind them. The bike was being rocked by the wind, and thunder and lightning exploded around them. The colossal wall of dust rushed forward, looming over them like a tidal wave about to crash. 

Roadhog veered off the road as soon as they passed the last scrap of debris. In the distance, he could see the safe house, already half buried in sand, its windows boarded up. 

He knew that he didn't have time to stop and unlock the hidden garage door. When they skidded to a stop a minute later at the back of the house, Roadhog jumped off the bike, grabbed the lock, and ripped it off. He would replace it later when they weren't about to be buried.

He pulled the garage door up and practically carried the entire bike inside. The second he reached for the door, the sand storm hit, and for a moment the air was filled with choking red dust. Then Roadhog slammed the door down and locked it from the inside, and the air was still.

Roadhog took a second to catch his breath. They had just escaped death twice in quick succession. 

Moving carefully, he found the lantern that he had left, and he lit it. The dark garage filled with light, and he could see the dust particles in the air slowly settling. Everything was as he left it. They were safe.

Taking the light, he moved over to Junkrat. Now that they were safe, he could finally get some proper medical attention. However, when he raised the light and saw the condition Junkrat was in, he froze.

There was more blood. His bandages were soaked, and it was splattered in front of him from where he had been coughing it up. Under all the dirt and soot, Roadhog could tell that he was extremely pale, and he was gasping for breath. There was a raspy, gurgling noise every time he inhaled; Roadhog knew this meant there was blood in his lungs. He saw that the shrapnel had been driven deeper, just as he feared. 

Knowing there was a stash of medical tools and supplies inside the main part of the house, he carefully picked up Junkrat and turned to go inside. However, at the last second he reached down and grabbed a spare canister, hooking it onto his belt.

The main part of the house was also dark and cold, but dust free. From here they could hear the howling of the wind outside, along with the thunder and lightning. 

He brought Junkrat into the kitchen and carefully laid him on the table. Junkrat was barely conscious, occasionally moaning in pain or giving a small cough, accompanied by a spray of blood. His breathing sounded worse, and he was still losing blood. There wasn't much time. 

Roadhog went to one of the cabinets and pulled out one of the many med-kits he had stored there. He took two bandages from within and used them as tourniquets, tying them tightly around Junkrat's arm and thigh to try and stem the bleeding. 

Then, taking out several tools, he adjusted the light so he could see better and he focused on the shrapnel. He could tell just by looking and listening that at least part of his lung had already collapsed. The shrapnel had pierced his right lung and allowed air to escape and build up in his chest with every breath he took. Quickly, he looked through the med-kit and found a large needle. As carefully as he could, he jabbed the needle into Junkrat's chest, right next to the shrapnel. There was a sharp hissing noise, and Junkrat gasped for breath as the pressure disappeared and allowed him to breathe again. However, his gasping was followed by deep, hacking coughs, and more blood poured out of his mouth. 

Roadhog quickly found a spare blanket and bundled it up, placing it under Junkrat's head to keep him from choking. Then he focused on the shrapnel. As carefully as possible, he used the tools to remove the shrapnel. It took several minutes. There was no sound except for the wind, Junkrat's pained breathing, and the occasional _drip... drip... drip..._ as blood escaped from the soaked bandages around Junkrat's severed arm and leg and fell to the floor. 

Minutes later, it was done. Roadhog looked at the small pile of bloody metal on the table in front of him, hoping that he got everything. He saw that Junkrat was now white as a ghost, and he was barely breathing.

Carefully, Roadhog leaned forward and propped him up, cradling his head in the crook of his elbow. He was burning with a fever, sweating and shaking. He had lost too much blood. He was dying. 

“Jamie...” he whispered, trying to keep the rising panic out of his voice. 

Junkrat stirred and cracked his eye open. He gave a weak smile. 

“I r-really fucked up t-this t-time...” he gasped, his small laugh turning into a pained and bloody cough. He glanced down at his missing arm and leg and the dark red bandages tied around them. “I b-bet that's already infected.”

Junkrat suddenly gave a sharp gasp and grimaced in pain, clutching his arm. “It hurts...” he whimpered.

Roadhog didn't say anything, and Junkrat glanced down at the table and saw the pools of blood. He gave a weak, pained smile. 

“Always f-figured it'd be r-radiation... or b-bounty hunters. Or you. Somethin' real s-slow and painful. Poison maybe... d-dehydration... torture...”

Roadhog stared at him for a moment before realizing what Junkrat was deliriously muttering about. He was talking about all the ways he thought he'd die.

“Knew I'd p-probably lose a leg at some point... in m-my line of work. Maybe a hand or some fingers. Didn't think it'd k-kill me though...” The smile slipped from his face.

He was much paler now, and his lips were starting to turn slightly blue. Roadhog put a large hand on his chest, feeling his heartbeat. It was weak and fast. His eye was unfocused, and it looked like he was struggling to stay conscious. 

Roadhog's heart was racing. For the past few minutes, he had been building up the courage to do what he needed to do. Junkrat went into another coughing fit, and the look of intense pain on his face once it had passed gave Roadhog the final push. 

“W-we all gotta b-blow up sometime...” muttered Junkrat. “Maybe it's... what...?”

Junkrat slowly trailed off as Roadhog reached behind him and pulled out the canister, setting it carefully on the table. 

Then Roadhog slowly reached up. Junkrat froze, only able to stare wide-eyed as Roadhog took off his mask. He didn't react when Roadhog put the mask on his face, carefully so as not to disturb the bandages around his head and eye. He only moved when Roadhog picked up the canister and hooked it into the mask, and his lungs were filled with gas that burned like acid. 

He spasmed and started shaking uncontrollably as an intense, burning pain shot through his body.

Roadhog leaned down and whispered a single word: “Breathe.”

Realizing he had been holding his breath, Junkrat forced himself to keep breathing, even though it was agony. Within seconds, his vision went dark. A moment later, however, the pain began to quickly fade. He gave a small shuddering sigh of relief, and he lost consciousness. 

Roadhog waited several minutes to make sure the gas had fully done its work, then he removed the canister and carefully took his mask back. Junkrat lay completely still and limp in his arms, but as he put his mask back on, he noticed that Junkrat was now breathing easier. Carefully, he reached down and peeled the sticky bloody bandage off of Junkrat's arm, not surprised to see that the stump had healed. The same went for his leg, and the cuts on his face, and the wounds on his chest. He was still bruised and battered, and he would be sick and dizzy from the trauma and blood loss, but he was going to live. 

Roadhog breathed a long sigh of relief. Carefully, he stood with Junkrat in his arms. He carried him into the room with the most comfortable bed and gently laid him down, throwing a blanket over him. He left a cup of water on the bedside table, then he went back into the kitchen to clean up the blood. 

Once everything was clean, he sat down and started thinking. As soon as the storm passed, the bounty hunter would be after them again, and they would definitely have backup this time. He thought for a bit before deciding it would be a good idea to leave Australia for at least a few months. They were only a day's ride away from the coast, and he knew a good place to steal a boat. He would run the idea by Junkrat when he woke up.

He heard Junkrat cough from the next room. Knowing that he would be out cold for at least a few hours, and it would probably take two days for the sand storm to blow over, Roadhog moved to the sofa and laid down. It had been a long day, and they had a lot of work to do. 

He closed his eyes and fell asleep within seconds.


End file.
